


Énouement

by besidemethewholedamntime



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fitzsmimmons Secret Valentine, Fluff, Future Fic, Team as Family, tw: premature baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 12:58:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13682166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besidemethewholedamntime/pseuds/besidemethewholedamntime
Summary: Here in the future we have finally arrived. Fitzsimmons opening boxes from the attic and unearthing old memories.|| Written for thefitzsimmonsnetwork 2018 'Fitzsimmons Secret Valentine' gift exchange.





	Énouement

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE, nikohlhaught!! I hope you enjoy your valentine! 
> 
> And to everyone else, I hope you have a lovely valentine's day and if it's just another day to you, then I hope you have a lovely day too!

 

_'Cause you feel like home_  
_You're like a dream come true_

_-Adele, 'When We Were Young'_

 

* * *

 

She’s in the middle of removing boxes from the attic when it falls out and flutters to the ground beneath her ladder.

After precariously stepping down from the ladder and gently unloading the box to the floor, Jemma retrieves the photograph from where it landed face down onto the carpet. It’s an old photograph, yellowing and curling at the edges, and the colours are not as bright as they once were but the faces are clearly distinguishable as her and Fitz. Taken in the later days of the Academy long ago, Jemma remembers quite clearly the circumstances that surrounded its being taken.

_“Come on, Fitz!” Jemma calls, rapping on the door. “The ball starts in twenty minutes and we still have to get all the way across campus!”_

_From inside the bathroom, Fitz mutters a ‘coming’._

_“Do you need help with your tie?” She grins, despite the stress that she is not allowing to get to her because she’s determined to enjoy this night._

_Something that sound suspiciously like a huff comes through the door. Then it’s wrenched open and a disgruntled Fitz with an even more disgruntled tie is standing in the doorway, his face a little red from exertion._

_“I can do them normally, but when I need to do them for a ball all of a sudden I can’t,” he growls a little, and holds out the tie for Jemma to take which she does, holding back her laughter._

_She ties it quickly with expert hands. “There! Very handsome.”_

_He blushes, which only enhances the effect. “Thanks. You look… beautiful.” His blush deepens and he looks away from her._

_“Thanks!” She says it confidently but is secretly relieved because she wasn’t so sure about this dress. It’s long and blue and very floaty. Not something she would usually wear but her mum had sent her it as a Christmas gift and now seems a good a time as any to wear it._

_“Ready to go?” Fitz asks, checking his hair in the mirror and flattening it a little._

_“Yup!” And then: “Oh, Fitz, let’s get a picture!”_

_He hums reluctantly and fiddles with his cufflinks, eyes falling to the ground. “We don’t really need to do that, do we? I mean people are already talking about us because we’re going together, and a picture’s just going to give them ammunition.”_

_“Ugh, Fitz. We’re friends, best-friends, and they know that. A photo is hardly indicative of a relationship.”_

_“You obviously didn’t go to school where I grew up then,” he mumbles._

_Jemma hasn’t allowed herself to succumb to the urge of rolling her eyes so far but alas she can hold it no longer. “Oh, come on. Stop being such a child about it. We’re seventeen, Fitz, not seven.” She collects the camera from her dressing table and opens the door, flagging down a passing first year to take their photo._

_“Fine.” Another huff, but she knows Fitz won’t cause a scene in front of a stranger and so she takes advantage and stands next to him, putting her arm around his waste without much thought about it. She might have been imagining it but she swears that his breath hitches. Very hesitantly, his arm wraps around her waist also._

_The girl with the camera smiles. “Say cheese,” she commands._

_Both Jemma and Fitz say nothing but smile at the camera. The flash is bright, and Jemma is still seeing stars as she thanks the girl and places her camera back down on her dressing table._

_“Thank you, Fitz,” she says, smiling._

_“No bother,” he grumbles and checks his watch. “We better hurry if you still want to get in ten minutes of pre-ball talk with the professors.”_

_“Oh, you’re right. We really should go. I’ll get two copies of the photo developed though, so that way you can take it with you wherever you decide to go. So you don’t forget me.”_

_“Trust me, Simmons,” Fitz says with a snort, “there is absolutely no way I could forget you.”_

When she had finally gotten around to developing the copies some six months later there had been no point in getting two copies developed. At that point they were on their way to Sci-Ops together and had both made it explicitly clear to each other and to everyone around them that they worked with each other and only with each other and that separating them would do more harm than good. They were Fitzsimmons, unbreakable and unstoppable and heaven help anyone who tried.

Jemma runs her thumb lightly across the faces in the photo. Gosh, how young they were. Their smiles are so bright, their outfits so smart. They were seventeen years old, socialising with others in the graduating class who were on average ten years their senior. They had the world at their feet and were ready and willing to take it on, to discover everything that science and engineering could offer them. They had that and they had each other and that was everything.

Tears have gathered the corner of her eyes and Jemma sniffs a little, wiping them away before gently laying the photo to the side. She’ll put it with their photo albums later but right now there is more moving to do. Going back up to the attic she comes down with another box. This one is a weathered; soft at the corners and crinkled and sags a little when she picks it up.

“Ugh, I knew we should have checked these before storing them,” she mutters to herself, setting the box down on the floor and hoping it won’t leave a mark on the carpet. Sitting down, she dithers before opening it, unwilling to get caught in more memories but also realising that the contents of this box won’t survive the move unless she moves them first.

It smells a little musty and damp inside and rooting around beneath the hastily scrunched up newspaper that sits on top, Jemma brings out the contents. It’s her and Fitz’s lab coats from when they first joined Coulson’s team. It explains why the box ix so weathered. They’ve kept them all these years, no matter where they were bounced around to. They’ve kept them in backpacks and cupboards and tool boxes, unwilling to part with the very things that remind them of when their lives were so much simpler. When they investigated and protected and flew about on a plane that was home.

_“We have to go!”_

_Coulson yells at them. It’s always unpleasant when Coulson yells at them but at least this time she knows he’s only doing it out of fear._

_She tries to say that they’re coming, that her and Fitz are just coming but she’s trembling so much that the words get caught between her brain and her mouth and all that comes out is a slight gasping noise. Her hand shakes and the handle of her backpack slips from her clutches. Fitz grabs it before it hits the floor._

_“Are you um okay, Simmons?” he asks, and she wants to chuckle a little at the irony of it. Of course she isn’t okay. She can’t be. Her world is crumbling at her very feet._

_However, she knows he’s only asking to say something and she appreciates it because hearing his voice stabilises her. Fitz has been with her since the beginning and he is still here. Even if everything else goes she will survive, if she just has Leopold Fitz._

_So she gives him a shaky smile. “Yes.” And she keeps her head up high. She might cry to him later, of course. She might allow herself to break down completely. Right now, however, there is work to be done and places to go and Jemma Simmons does not and cannot give up. She takes the backpack back from Fitz and hurries over to stuff their lab coats inside._

_“Simmons, what are you doing?” Fitz cries, his voice threaded with a little bit of panic. They don’t have a lot of time and she knows that he’s scared, terrified, that they won’t make it._

_“I just need these,” she replies, gathering up the lab coats and squishing them in as tightly as she can._

_“The lab coats? Why?”_

_Jemma declines to answer and instead hurries back over to him and asks him if he’s ready to go. He nods affirmatively and with a quick squeeze to her shoulder begins to move towards Coulson. She does the same, holding on tightly to the backpack and swearing that she’ll make sure these are with her wherever she goes._

The lab coats are one of the few ties she has to the way the old SHIELD was. It wasn’t perfect, she knows that, and there were many flaws which led to its demise, but it was also responsible for giving her the education she had after completing her PhD’s and it was responsible for giving her a second family. It was responsible for giving her Fitz. These lab coats are a symbol of the two of them, SHIELD logo and all, of who they were in the very beginning.

Jemma thumbs the logo softly and puts them on top of the photograph. She’s meant to be decluttering for their move, but she won’t part with these.

“Fitz!” She calls, and hears him almost tripping over himself running up the stairs. When he comes into view Jemma sees that his face is red from exertion and his hair is mussed.

“Oh, were you busy?”

“I was just sorting things in the kitchen.” He frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Fitz,” she sighs but smiles. “Look at what I found!” She points to the lab coats on the floor. “Isn’t that amazing? I can’t believe I forgot we’ve had them up there the entire time.”

Fitz glances at them, a wistful look on his face. Jemma wonders if he’s wishing for a little part of the simplicity that life held for them then. The wistfulness disappears after a moment and he turns to her with a look that’s almost incredulous with a smidge of annoyance.

“You’re taking boxes out of the attic?”

Jemma sighs and stands up. She had forgotten that he would have an issue with this when she called him in all her excitement about the lab coats.

“Yes. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?”

“Gee, I can think of one really obvious one right now.”

She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, Fitz. I’m pregnant not an invalid.”

Fitz laughs disbelievingly. “Oh no, Jemma, don’t say it like you’re three weeks pregnant. You’re _five bloody months!_ It’s unsafe for you to be going up and down a ladder.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “I have been pregnant before, Fitz. Twice actually. I think I know what I’m doing.”

“We haven’t moved house when you’ve been pregnant before!”

“And whose bright idea was it to move house now?”

“I cannot _believe_ this! It was a mutual decision, Jemma. We both agreed!”

“Yes, we did.” She takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of her nose in the onset of a sudden headache. Fitz is by her side in a second, gently helping her down to the floor and kneeling beside her. She takes a few deep breaths and gradually the ache subsides.

“I guess we both haven’t learnt not to bicker when you’re pregnant,” Fitz murmurs into her ear.

Jemma lets out a little breathy laugh. “I suppose we haven’t. I just wanted to get something done today. We move in three weeks and we still have to work and take care of the girls and with them being at Daisy’s today I just wanted to be productive.”

“I know,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Here, I’ll get the last boxes down from the attic and we can sort through the things together. That should be good for today, right?”

Mentally going through the moving plan in her head, Jemma agrees. As long as the attic is cleared and sorted today then everything is fine and they will still be on schedule to move to their new house.

The baby kicks softly, as if to remind her to get moving, and Jemma giggles. “Feel this, Fitz,” she requests, moving his hand to the spot on her abdomen.

“Wow,” he breathes. He beams at her. “Still amazes me every time.”

“I know, me too.”

And it does. It truly does amaze her every time how far they have come from those two people in the photograph who wore those lab coats and went to that ball together. They are married. They have two children and are about to welcome a third into the world. If she’s honest with herself, that’s more the reason for emptying the attic even though her balance is a little off and she gets breathless easier. She wants to look at where they started as proof that they have survived all of this and still made it out as people on the other side.

“There’s only a few more boxes left. They’re near the back.”

“I’ll go get them,” Fitz says and gets up, kissing her on the forehead as he does so.

Once upon a time forehead kisses were not so sweet but now she treasures them. It has been her mission, ever since leaving that life almost five years ago now, to replace all of the bad things with the good. So there have been more forehead kisses, they’ve been scuba-diving in the Atlantic and they’ve even went skydiving together. They have rewritten their experiences and tried to stop letting the past make them afraid. Together they are unconquerable and Jemma doesn’t really mind that it took them a while to figure out, just that they figured it out after all.

“Hey, Jemma,” Fitz calls from somewhere above her head. “Can you steady the ladder for me?”

She struggles to her feet and holds the ladder in place, giggling. “Leopold Fitz, are you telling me that I managed to get most of the boxes down by myself and yet you need me to hold a ladder for the last two?”

“They’re heavy!” He protests. When he finally lands them on the hall floor with a thud Jemma sees what he means. These boxes are full; bursting at the seams with memories. She wonders what’s in here, wonders if it’s amazing or something that she’d rather forget but has been unable to part with all of these years.

“Wonder what’s in here,” Fitz murmurs, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead and then planting him on his hips in his famous ‘pregnant lady’ stance. She wants to make a quip about how he’s not allowed to do that, now when she’s the one five months pregnant but it dies in the back of her throat. She’s suddenly nervous. It’s just a box, she tells herself. Just a box. What’s in it has been there for five years and it doesn’t matter. It can’t change their lives. In three hours their daughters will come home and they will have dinner together. In three weeks they will move to their new house that has a cellar they can turn into a lab and a garden to put a swing set and a slide. It doesn’t matter. She wonders how many times she has to tell herself this before she’ll believe it.

“Maybe we should open it.” Her words are breathless. A part of her doesn’t want to but knows she will anyway. Jemma Simmons is a scientist first and foremost and sheer curiosity combined with the overwhelming desire to have cleaned everything out before moving overcomes her reluctance.

Fitz clears his throat and peels the tape off the firs box. The cardboard flaps spring open, releasing a slight cloud of dust. They peer into the box together, and Jemma almost melts into the floor with relief at what she sees.

It’s her wedding dress. His kilt. Their eldest daughter’s bridesmaid dress. It’s their wedding box.

“Oh. Fitz,” she breathes, and sinks to her knees. She wants to look through this box. Not to sort anything, not to throw any of it away but just to s _ee._

Fitz joins her on his knees. “I thought this stuff was already packed,” he murmurs.

“No,” she shakes her head, blinking back tears that have inexplicably formed. “I thought these were in the back of our wardrobe, which is Tuesday’s task.” She hears Fitz laugh softly. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

She moves to bring the first item out: her wedding dress. Packaged gently between layers of acid free tissue paper inside a garment bag, the dress feels as light as it did on the day she wore it. Unwilling to unravel all of it, she just looks at the bodice, gently tracing the fine beading with her forefinger.

_“Oh, Jemma. You look beautiful,” Daisy sighs, helping Jemma into her shoes._

_“I agree,” May says from the window where she is holding a very squirmy one year old. “Beautiful.”_

_Studying herself in the mirror, Jemma can’t quite believe she’s made it to this day. They’re having their wedding. A big wedding, too. A big wedding that’s meant she’s had to worry about things like flowers and music and napkin colours. A big wedding in a Scottish castle with all of her family and friends. It’s more than their wedding; it’s a celebration of how far they’ve came. How far they’ve all came. This wedding is more for everyone rather than for just the two of them._

_“Mack says most the guests have arrived,” Daisy announces after checking her phone._

_“Isn’t he with Fitz?” Jemma asks, suddenly alarmed for some unknown reason._

_“Relax, Jemma. Fitz is fine. Mack probably just stepped out to see how everything else was coming along.”_

_“Still,” Jemma worries her bottom lip. “Perhaps I should go check on him.”_

_She’s only half way across the room before Daisy is standing in front of the door, a firm look on her face._

_“No. Fitz is fine. He’s been dreaming of this moment for years and he is definitely not going to ruin it. Plus, I know you don’t believe in all of this ‘bride and groom can’t see each other before the big day’ crap but like hell I’m going to let you tempt fate. So sit down and let May reapply your lipstick. This day is going to be perfect.”  Jemma must still look unsure because Daisy’s lips quirk up in a smile and she holds her hands out jokingly. “I mean it! I will quake you if I have to.”_

_Jemma laughs and it’s only a little nervously. She sits down at the dressing table, holding her hands out for her daughter who immediately stops squirming and quietens contentedly against her mother._

_“Hey, that kid must be the only person that would misbehave for May and still be alive at the end of it,” Daisy laughs._

_“You’re still here, aren’t you?” May murmurs as she gently swipes the lipstick across Jemma’s lips. Daisy falls silent._

_This is it. This is all she’s wanted. This easiness, this contentedness, this utter feeling that life could not be any better other than if she had a ring on her finger and Fitz was by her side._

_“How long?” She asks._

_May looks at her watch. “Twenty minutes until the ceremony.”_

_Jemma leans back in the chair, mindful not to crush her dress. Her daughter lies against her, one little starfish hand splayed across the bodice. She won’t remember this; babies don’t form long term memories until fourteen months old. Jemma will, though. Jemma will remember this moment for the rest of her life._

_“You nervous?” Daisy asks._

_“No,” Jemma replies, shaking her head. “Not in the slightest.”_

She puts the dress back in all of it’s wrapping, vowing that it will be stored properly once they move. Next, she brings out the kilt, it’s purple Pride of Scotland pattern evoking the hilarious memories of when she saw Fitz try it on for the first time.

“I can’t believe you and my mum ganged up on me to wear that.”

Jemma looks at him and pulls a face of mock sympathy. “Oh, please, as if we forced you to do anything. You know you wanted to wear one. Your mum even said you’d had your colour picked out since you were five.”

“I think it was more like I was forced to wear one to my cousin’s wedding when I was five and I thought I looked cool.”

“Whatever you say, Fitz,” Jemma laughs, folding the kilt and wrapping it back up. She brings out the next item, her personal favourite: her daughter’s bridesmaid dress.

“Can you believe Anna was once this small?” She asks, holding up the dress for Fitz to see.

He takes the dress from her and does what she did with her own dress moments ago; gentling tracing the beading on the ribbon that separates the satin top from the tulle skirt, he looks lost in thought. He clears his throat and Jemma swears she sees tears in the corner of his eyes. “She’s so grown up.”

“Almost four is hardly grown up, Fitz.” She teases but she feels a little misty herself. Her baby girl is almost four. Soon she’ll be in school then applying for different universities then leaving home and leaving her parents wondering where the time went.

“Grown up enough,” Fitz murmurs and swiping his eyes he puts the dress gently back in the box.

The rest of the box is filled with the wedding photo albums and they flick through them together quickly. There are an alarming number of photos of Daisy with cake on her face, smashing cake into other people’s faces and Jemma wonders why the photographer took so many. She loves the pictures anyway. She loves how they show everyone she cares about in one of the happiest days of her life. She loves that she got to spend the day with everyone she cares about – SHIELD family and biological alike. Most of all she loves that she got there at all.

“Should we open the other box now?”

“Yes, we probably should. It might just be the rest of the wedding things.”

They open the box together. The flaps pop open and no little puff of dust comes out. This box is full, carefully packed to the brim like Tetris pieces.

Jemma gasps a little when she gently frees one of the precisely wrapped pieces to see what’s underneath.

It’s not the other box of wedding things.

_“I can’t believe we have two daughters.”_

_Fitz beams at her. He gently cradles their newest addition to his chest, one thumb softly stroking up and down her back. No words are said, no words need to be said. Words can’t describe the feeling of utter joy this moment holds._

_The baby snuggles into her father, clearly already picking a firm favourite between her two parents. She’s so tiny, ever so tiny, tinier than Anna ever was. Jemma knows the science, but the mother in her can’t help but marvel that someone so small is just so strong. At just over two months early she is weak, extremely so. She is hooked up to heart monitors and oxygen and alarms that bring medical staff rushing in should the slightest thing be wrong. Her skin is delicate and barely even able to tolerate a nappy. Yet she is also strong. One of the strongest people Jemma has ever had the honour of meeting. She defies the doctor’s expectations ever single chance she gets and meets their targets above and beyond. The saying ‘and though she be but little, she is fierce’ is always in Jemma’s had whenever she looks at her._

_“We need a name,” Fitz whispers. “Baby Fitzsimmons is cute and all but she might hate us when she starts school.”_

_On his bare chest the baby snuffles. They both freeze, waiting for an alarm that never comes. Just a snuffle. A normal new-born baby snuffle. Her heart unclenches and she can breathe again, enough to form words. “To think that was going to be what we were going to do tomorrow night.”_

_Jemma is tired, and emotional and so concerned over her daughter’s health and the wellbeing of her other daughter currently residing with Mack and Yoyo, so that’s why she hasn’t allowed herself to fully panic at the fact that nothing is ready for the new baby’s arrival. They were meant to have more than two months left but life had other plans and they have nothing, not even a name. She had a plan, of course she had a plan, but her plan was based on them having more time. They’ll be here for a few weeks at least, she knows this, and their daughter may not need a car seat and babygro’s but she still needs a name._

_“Remember how long it took us to come up with a name for Anna,” he says dreamily, and Jemma knows that he is so head over heels in love with his new daughter because there is no way he could look back fondly on one of the hardest two weeks of her life._

_“Do I remember? Oh, Fitz, how could I forget? Our PhD’s were easier than trying to pick out a name.”_

_“We must have gotten rid of at least a hundred.” He looks down at the baby on his chest. “Do you think one of them will work for this one?”_

_Jemma considers it, and considers all of her criteria for a girl’s name. “I don’t think so – there was a reason we didn’t use them for Anna.”_

_“I guess,” he concedes. He looks down at the baby again. Jemma doesn’t think she will ever get over the smile that’s on his face. “What are we going to call you?”_

_She doesn’t get to answer because a nurse pokes her head around the door with a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry to disturb you two while you’re getting some skin to skin time, but I found a few visitors wanting to know if they could see you. Just for ten minutes, mind, and as long as you keep quiet then it’s fine. Want me to send them in?”_

_They look at each other, wondering who is coming to visit at seven in the evening. “Yes, please.”_

_The nurse disappears and in walks Coulson with May behind them. Their wearing the green cling-film aprons like Jemma herself is wearing; Coulson carrying a large body pillow and a blow-up mattress, and May carrier two large hessian bags filled to the brim._

_“Hey, guys,” Coulson says, kissing Jemma’s cheek._

_May puts down the bags and touches Jemma’s shoulder softly. “How’re you holding up?”_

_“We’re good, thank you. It has been a little tiring but we’re getting there.” Jemma smiles at them, hoping they don’t see how tenuous it is. The last four days have been more than a little tiring, they’ve been downright exhausting._

_“She’s adorable,” Coulson comments, watching Fitz hold his daughter as gently as he’s ever handled his prototypes. Jemma’s heart swells and she wonders if it will ever stop. “She have a name yet?”_

_“Nah, not yet. That’s what we were talking about,” Fitz says._

_May walks over to Fitz to get a look. Her face goes soft and slack and Jemma thinks she sees a hint of tears in her eyes, and wonders if she’s thinking of the little girls lost to her all those futures ago._

_There is a hush that nobody dares to break until May herself is ready to do so. She does so, eventually, composing herself with a cough that fools nobody. “We brought you some things.” She motions to the bags, pillow, and blow-up mattress._

_“We know you didn’t have much ready at home so we took care of it all. Finished decorating the room, stocked your freezer, got you some clothes and toiletries and things for here,” Coulson finishes. “Figured you’d be here a while so we brought a camp bed.”_

_“Sir, you really didn’t have to.” Jemma feels a lump form in her throat, a rather large one that she is not sure she can swallow down._

_“We did.” May smiles a gentle smile at her. “You’re family.”_

_“Thank you,” Fitz says. “For everything. We’re glad you guys are here.”_

_Coulson nods to both of them. “We’ve been to check on Anna – she’s doing great. Gave us these to give to you.” He hands Jemma some drawings done in bright coloured pens. “We can bring her by tomorrow, if you want?”_

_The mention of her two-year-old makes Jemma tear up with longing. Damn these hormones, she thinks. “Oh, yes please.”_

_“Great.” He claps his hands together. “Have your parents been by yet?”_

_Jemma and Fitz look at each other. Fitz is the one who speaks._

_“Eh, we actually haven’t been able to get a hold of them. They’re on some cruise around the Mediterranean. We were meant to have more time so…”_

_“Say no more,” Coulson says, voice filled with determination. “We’re SHIELD. We’ll get in touch with them.”_

_Jemma’s eyes widen. “You really don’t have to do that, sir. We aren’t SHIELD anymore, after all, and I highly doubt that it would be approved to use resources for those who aren’t even agents.”_

_“Like May said: you guys are family. You always will be, whether you work for SHIELD or not. And you don’t, so you don’t need to call me ‘sir’ anymore, Jemma.”_

_She grins sheepishly. “Sorry, sir.” And then pops her hands over her mouth when she realises._

_They laugh quietly. “We’ll let you get some rest.” May whispers, and with one long last glance at their tiny new arrival, walks out with Coulson by her side._

_The nurse comes in not much later and puts their daughter back in the incubator. Fitz dons his t-shirt once again and together they look through the pictures Anna drew for them and the items in the bags._

_“I can’t believe they did all that,” Jemma whispers._

_“Decorated the room and everything,” Fitz replies, voice full of gratitude. “We’re lucky.”_

_She lets out a small chuckle. “There was a time when you were convinced we were cursed.”_

_“Nah, never cursed,” he smiles ruefully. “Maybe a little unlucky.” At her pointed look. “A lot unlucky. But maybe we were just unbalanced in our luck, you know? We got all of our bad luck in the beginning, and now the universe is making up for it.”_

_All of a sudden Jemma’s eyes fill with tears and she has to look away from Fitz. There’s a hot weight on her chest that makes her feel like she can’t breathe._

_“Hey, what is it? Jemma?” His voice has gone up an octave with panic and she wants to reassure him, she does, but she doesn’t know how._

_“Breathe,” he commands gently and she realises she hasn’t been. “Come on, Jemma, breathe with me.” He gestures with his arms the rhythm she should be following. Eventually the weight lessens to something bearable and she can choke out an explanation:_

_“She’s in an incubator, Fitz.”_

_Her voice is small and teary and a culmination of the last few days breaking in a tidal wave over her._

_“I know,” he says, and his voice breaks a little too. “I know, but she’s a fighter, Jemma, easily one of the strongest people I know. She’ll get through this.” His voice breaks a little more. “We have each other. We can do this as long as we have each other. We’re unstoppable, remember?”_

_Jemma nods, and falls into the arms he opens up for her. He kisses her atop of her hair and his breath tickles her scalp._

_“We’re lucky because we have each other, we have Anna and this little one, and we have them. Our family. The ones that we didn’t exactly get to choose either but we love them and they love us. We’ll make it through this, Jemma. We will because we don’t know what else to do. We don’t know what else to do except go on.”_

Jemma stares dumbfounded at the box that contains all of the things they had amassed over that hospital stay. Packets of tiny, premature baby nappies, babygro’s that are smaller than those that dolls would wear – handmade by Daisy who had taken up sewing in between saving the world – dummies and bottles and all of those things that Jemma would never like to see again because they remind her of a time when her heart was so hurt but also things she was unable to throw away because they had been brought by people who cared about her and Fitz and their family. Brought by their family.

She turns to Fitz with tears in her eyes. “Remember these?”

“How could I forget?” Something passes across his face. “She was so tiny.”

Jemma hums in agreement. “Remember the room they decorated? It was so perfect and we hadn’t even had time to prepare any designs so they had nothing to go on and it was just… perfect.”

It was perfect. The team. Their family, had been perfect. They looked after Anna, they made sure there were always healthy meals in the freezer or the refrigerator and they did it all in between saving the world.

“They were amazing. Her room always reminds me how far she’s come. I mean Sarah she’s so… big now.” He laughs. “Can tie her own shoelaces and everything but every time I tuck her in at night I just get this sense of how lucky she is, how lucky we are to have her.”

Jemma does nothing but nod because she feels exactly the same way. That moment two years ago, the moment three days after Sarah was born and her world was swirling and terms were being thrown around that she didn’t know because there had been no _time_ to prepare. She had been so out of her depth, so terrified, and the thing that had got her through was Fitz. It’s always been Fitz. He’s been her best-friend for most of her life, her work partner, her life partner. She needs him. She _loves_ him.

“We are lucky, Fitz,” she says, repeating those words he said years ago.

His eyes are teary and he nods. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They hold each other, then. Hold each other tightly for what could be years in the hallway of what will soon become their old house. It’s all quite surreal, if Jemma thinks about it hard enough. If she had told her sixteen-year-old self that one day she would be married to Leopold James Fitz and have three children with him she might have called herself delusional. But here she is, spending the rest of her life with her best-friend and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

It hasn’t been easy, perhaps the understatement of the year, and she can’t say she would do all of it all over again, but she’s definitely glad to have made it here. Here, at the end-point, it is all worth it. All of the pain, of the loneliness, of the devastating heartbreak has all been worth it.

“I suppose we better get back to packing,” Jemma laughs, swiping at her eyes and pulling away.

“Yeah, I guess we should.”

Fitz helps her to stand up and she pauses for a second to get her bearings. “I’m rather excited for our new home, aren’t you?” She says, surveying the mess made and mentally categorising everything. Closing her eyes, she tries to think of the end result, of their new home with the lab and the swing set. “I can’t wait to turn it into something magnificent.”

She turns back to Fitz who is looking at her with that smile that makes her feel as though she could reach up and touch the stars. He pulls her close and she presses her face into his shirt. He kisses the top of her head.

“Who needs the new house? I’ve got something magnificent right here.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Anna is named for Anna Jane Harrison - the first woman elected as president of the American Chemical Society and the first woman Ph.D. in chemistry from the University of Missouri. Sarah is named for Sarah Stevenson - a pioneer woman physician and medical teacher, a professor of obstetrics and the American Medical Association's first female member. I'll leave it up to you to decide the gender of the third baby and his/her name :)  
> Source: https://www.thoughtco.com/famous-women-scientists-3528329


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